


Little Wannabe

by helens78



Category: Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: Angry Sex, Denial, Jealousy, M/M, Rough Sex, Underage Character, Underage Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-30
Updated: 2010-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Billy gets jealous, Joe generally gets what he's been looking for. Now is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Wannabe

**Author's Note:**

> Contains heavy petting involving a consenting teenager -- all other tags apply only to Joe/Billy.

Joe figured out pretty early on that it's not the girls that get to Billy, it's the boys. And it's not just any guy, either--it's the little blond twinks. Worse if they're musician wannabes. A _lot_ worse if they say they can play, or God help everybody around them, _shred_.

So when the cute little blond thing in the Dead Boys shirt shows up backstage looking for an autograph or a blowjob or whatever the fuck he wants, Joe takes a good look. He's got nice hard forearms and his fingernails are all clipped down neat but ripped to shit, too, right ones all torn up and streaked and spotted like he doesn't use a pick all the time.

"You play?" Joe asks.

"Kinda, yeah," the kid says, scratching at the back of his head. He's blushing like a virgin and rocking back and forth on his heels like his hard-on just won't--fucking--go-- _down_ \--dammit, and Joe could just eat him up with a spoon.

He tells Joe what his name is, not that Joe gives a shit. Joe just slings an arm around his shoulders and guides him backstage, where Pipe's talking to a couple of groupies in short skirts and shiny boots and John is off in the corner scribbling something--new lyrics, probably, Joe's gonna have to follow up on that. Billy isn't back here yet. Good. Good, that's perfect.

Joe makes up an excuse to get the kid back into Billy's dressing room, and the kid goes all wide-eyed and excited when he realizes he's looking at the guitar case schlepped around on tour by _the_ Billy Tallent. Joe flips it open and digs into it for one of Billy's picks--"save your fingernails, kid, learn to use one of those"--and the kid stares at it reverently, which is just too fucking much for Joe.

"You want it?" Joe asks. He grabs the pick between his teeth and wiggles his eyebrows, and the kid visibly _gulps_ , flattening himself against the wall. Joe comes in closer and closer and closer, and the kid takes the fucking pick between _his_ teeth, and then he's spitting it into his hand and Joe's got a thigh wedged up between his legs, and oh, shit, the kid's a sloppy, wet kisser who doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, but that's fine, that's fine, all he has to do is last for two fucking minutes.

And there it is, right on cue--there's a hand in the back of Joe's shirt and he gets _yanked_ off the kid, and sure, Billy says, "No molesting the innocents," and introduces himself to the kid with a grin and a handshake, but his hand's tight on the back of Joe's neck, and he doesn't let go even when he makes small talk with the kid. He sends the kid down the hall to pick up Pipe's autograph and John's autograph, and the minute the kid's out the door, Billy slams the door shut and shoves Joe up against it.

"Are you fucking stupid? You're gonna get yourself arrested."

Joe rolls his eyes. "You don't look like a cop to me."

"He was what, fifteen, sixteen?"

Joe gives Billy his best shit-eating grin and says, "Hey, fifteen's a good age. You remember." He widens his eyes, gets them all big and round and innocent, and says, "Or maybe you don't. Fifteen was a while ago, huh?"

Billy grabs Joe by the arms and shoves him into the door. "I'm right here, fucker--"

"Yeah?"

"-- _yeah_ , so just leave the kids alone, Jesus--"

"You're just afraid you're never gonna be that pretty again," Joe says, grinning.

Billy reaches forward and grabs Joe's cock, and whoa, okay, straight to the finish line this time, no more bitching around. But that's fine with Joe; he reaches for Billy's belt, yanks on it until it opens, and then Billy's got one hand in Joe's pants and Joe has _both_ hands working on Billy's, shoving down his jeans and his boxers and gripping his dick and his balls, and Billy leans in and bites Joe right on the fucking _ear_ as he works Joe's cock.

"Ow, _hey_ \--"

"Say you're _sorry_ ," Billy whispers, licking the curve of Joe's ear where he bit down. "Say you're a sorry motherfucker who's not going to chase kids anymore--"

"God, I fuckin' _love_ it when you get like this," Joe pants. He squeezes Billy's balls until Billy groans, jerks his cock faster and faster while Billy thrusts into his hands. "Say that shit again--what you wanted me to tell you, c'mon--"

"--sorry _motherfucker_ ," Billy growls, and then he slams his hips hard against Joe's, wrecking Joe's rhythm, goddamnit, but it doesn't matter, because he's coming, streaking the bottom of Joe's shirt with his jizz. Joe doesn't care; he just smears some of it over his own palm and wraps his hand around Billy's, making Billy grip him a little tighter, stroke him a little faster.

"Yeah," Joe pants, "yeah yeah _yeah_ \--oh, shit, _fuck you_ , Billy, _fuck you fuck you fuck you_ \--"

He thinks he got Billy in the jeans--he was trying to aim--but things kinda get cloudy at certain strategic moments, so who knows. He slumps back against the door and sighs, grinning like a loon.

Billy slaps him upside the head. "Dickwad," he mutters, pulling his jeans back up.

"Cuntface."

" _Ass_ face."

Joe snickers. He knocks some of the come off his shirt as he gets dressed again; mostly it's a lost cause. He could give a damn. "Shitkicker."

"Pederast."

"Oh, come on, I didn't even touch him." Joe rolls his eyes. "He was in here for, like, two minutes."

"You had your tongue down his throat."

"Yeah, well." Joe reaches up and runs his fingers down the front of Billy's neck. "Ask nice and I'll put something down _your_ throat later."

Billy's quiet. He looks right into Joe's eyes, and Joe looks away first, because _fuck_ \--the few secrets he's got from Billy aren't gonna last long under that kind of scrutiny.

"Would you have fucked him if I hadn't come in?" Billy asks quietly, and Joe blinks up at him, startled. Billy doesn't look pissed, doesn't look jealous anymore, he looks--he looks kind of bruised, kind of sore, and Joe knows it's not from anything he did to Billy's body.

"I was waiting for you the whole time," Joe says, and then quickly puts on his best stupid voice and adds, "'cause I'm a big fucking _fag_ for you, and I'm _saving_ myself, baby," and fuck, his heart's pounding in his chest, Billy's not fucking _deaf_ , he's gotta be hearing that.

But Billy just snorts at him, and he smacks Joe upside the head again, and then he pulls Joe away from the door. "C'mon," he says. "Got an adoring public to see to. Wouldn't want to miss it, right?"

"Right," Joe says, but he waits for Billy to leave first, and he watches Billy walk down the hall, leaning up against the doorway. Kind of bruised, kind of sore. Kind of not just Billy, maybe. "Right."

 _-end-_


End file.
